


FIVE

by Dyleon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Amnesiac Stiles Stilinski, Canon-Typical Violence, Comforting Derek, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Major Character Injury, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 04, Stiles Explores His Own Past, Stiles Stilinski Has Scars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 23:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3268142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dyleon/pseuds/Dyleon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of the Benefactor, they all got proven once more how broken they all are. But it was clear that no one could go back and get their old life back… except of Stiles. He goes back all the way to the very start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FIVE

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alis/gifts).



> This actually just started as a small idea, based on Alis' [prompt](http://badmooonrising.tumblr.com/post/109147779065/okay-but-where-are-the-fics-where-stiles-has), but somehow turned into this fic. This fic takes place after the season 4 final, so it'll start with the canon ships first before tagged ships appear.
> 
> However, this is only the first chapter and I'm planning on expanding the story. But I'm currently very busy with finishing other projects, so it'll take some time to write more to this fic. Until then, this is just going to be a little sterek fic with an open end.
> 
> A huge thank you to [Jacqui](http://archiveofourown.org/users/augopher) for beta'ing the first chapter for me! You're awesome.

 

[my tumblr](http://dyleon.tumblr.com/) | [soundtrack](http://dyleon.tumblr.com/post/109748185717/soundtrack-for-my-fic-five-read-it-on-ao3)

 

Stiles is nervous for the whole dinner. He can’t keep his hands from shaking. The rattling of his knife inside the bowl makes him only more nervous as he keeps thinking about the upcoming meeting. His lips don’t even touch his food once.

_What is it this time? Witches or… assassins again?_

In fact, it doesn’t matter. All he knows is that he’s going to volunteer for the mission anyway. He only hopes that it’s not going to be too difficult. The laceration he got from the last mission is still in its healing process and itches so much, he barely manages it to not scratch it all the time.

He doesn’t know why, but it just makes him nervous. Still, it’s nothing he couldn’t shrug off as normal.

He is still deep in his own thoughts while his dad sits across the table, slowly eating dinner like there was nothing to be worried about because he has the day off. He’s the sheriff. He has more things to worry about tomorrow when he’s working, so it’s better this way.

Stiles is the one in the family who watches the supernatural crimes, and his dad is the one who watches the human crimes. That’s how this family works now.

“Stiles, please at least try to eat a little bit,” the sheriff says and drops his hands onto the table. “I don’t want you to starve at the meeting.”

“It’s a _pack_ meeting, Dad. And other than that, I’m fine. Just thinking about the case we’re going to discuss today. You know… about all the murders, which are currently going on. That’s all,” Stiles says dryly, starting to poke around in his bowl with his knife. He’s not going to get anything with a knife, but at least it looks like he’s trying to eat now. It doesn’t change the fact that he can’t eat, though, and gives up. He shoves his bowl into the middle of the table away from him. “I’m not hungry.”

“You sure?” his dad asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll eat something at the pack meeting,” Stiles says as he slides back with his chair and stands up. The sheriff stands up too, but remains in his spot, reaching for the boy as he walks over to the door and grabs his jacket. He walks back into the kitchen. It’s not much, but hopefully it’ll calm Dad that he wears a jacket while he’s out. Basic parent stuff.

“Didn’t you say the meeting was at eight?” Dad asks as he gets pulled into a hug by Stiles. “It’s barely seven thirty.”

“S’fine, Dad, really, I’ll—”

“No, it’s not, Stiles! Nothing is okay here!” his dad shouts out, refusing the hug.

Stiles startles and almost trips as he feels the push, but quickly regains his balance again. His dad’s face is bright red. He hasn’t seen him like that since he got shot at the police station and visited him at the hospital. Yes, the Benefactor case. It’s probably one of the most difficult cases they were in. Oh, how he hates thinking about it. But still, there’s a case he doesn’t even want to hear about when he’s in hell, where all your sins are shot at you like arrows.

_Like arrows…_

“This is insane, Stiles! I almost never see you, and if I do, you’re not eating or drinking, or showing any emotions! I’m sick of seeing you getting back from one of your stupid ‘missions’ with another scar, bruise, fracture or whatever! I know you want to do hero stuff, but you shouldn’t sacrifice yourself for it. Heroes need to rest too. You sit and eat!”

“Well, I usually eat when you’re at work or at pack meetings. That’s why you don’t see me eating anything,” Stiles hisses back, stepping one step closer to his dad. “It’s your job to keep this town safe as much it is mine. That’s what I’m supposed to do now; I’m the boy who runs with wolves!”

“No, Stiles, that’s not—”

“Whatever,” Stiles huffs annoyed.

He doesn’t need to listen to this. He offered a hug. He offered to just go and do his duty without stress, letting his dad do the same. But he didn’t accept any of it. It’s his fault that he can’t accept that his _little boy_ grew up to become a man.

He walks off without another word and slams the door shut behind him. All he can hear while he stomps to his jeep is his own heartbeat and his racing thoughts in his head. He doesn’t want to see his dad like that, but if he doesn’t live his life like he wants to, he’s never going to. His life is perfect. He has a girlfriend, friends and isn’t even too bad at school. He does have a few scars here and there, but that’s the price for what he is.

This is what Stiles wants, being something important, to give a meaning to his past. He’s doing this to keep his loved ones safe. To keep Dad safe.

_Why doesn’t he understand that?_

Stiles grabs the handle of his jeep and looks to his house one last time before he leaves, seeing that Dad didn’t follow him. He only hears breaking glass inside the house, making his eyes squeeze shut as he gets into the car.

_Don’t worry, Dad. One day, you will understand._

 

◊

 

Stiles’ jeep arrives at the loft thirty minutes before the actual meeting starts. It’s not unusual that he comes that early. Normally, he’s a few minutes too early anyway, but now he actually has the feeling that he won’t know what to do all this time. The only thing he knows is that Derek’s directing the meeting today. There’s no doubt that Derek is already there—especially because it’s his place—, waiting for everyone to arrive.

He’s always the first one to see Derek before the meeting. They never really talk to each other, though, but today, Stiles is way too early. Derek might kick him out for that.

He walks up the stairs slowly. He doesn’t need to hurry anyway. When he makes it to the loft, the door is already open. Derek’s back is turned to Stiles as he stands next to the big meeting table and stares out of the window.

“What are you doing here? Meeting doesn’t start until eight,” Derek says as he turns to the door.

“I thought I’d come a little earlier than usual,” Stiles huffs out with a shrug. He points back to the door. It’s obvious that Derek opened it after he heard his car pull up. “The door was open so…”

“Stiles, you’re always a little too early, but right now, you’re thirty minutes too early,” the wolf says as he steps closer to him, trying to make himself look bigger than he actually is. “I’m not going to repeat myself, so listen carefully; there will be no two-man meeting. You got to wait until everyone’s here.”

Stiles raises his eyebrows at the _big bad wolf_ and crosses his arms, telling him “I’m not afraid of you” with his eyes.

Derek rolls his eyes. “I don’t get it. Why do you always have to get to the meetings earlier than anyone? What’s the point? It’s just dumb, Stiles. Some people are really worried about you, you kn—”

“Yeah, yeah, I _know_. Happy?” Stiles answers sarcastically and walks past the bundle of muscles, and steps towards the table. He sits himself in one of the chairs and sighs. “Seriously, until I’m all the way down these stairs again, the meeting has already begun. I’m not moving anywhere.”

Derek sits down next to him. It’s not the seat of the admin, but the meeting hasn’t started, after all. He leans back into the seat and crosses his arms, turning his gaze to Stiles with raised eyebrows. “Liam’s taking a break from missions because of stress, and he’s a werewolf, Stiles... Maybe, a break wouldn’t be bad for you too.”

“I do enough breaks,” Stiles says, not even lying. Sleep, in fact, is a break, and he does for at least four hours per day.

He doesn’t even understand why they are talking right now anyway. Usually, Derek just ignores him and keeps waiting for the others at the window, looking like a creep. Other than that, Stiles hasn’t had any interaction with the _big pack mummy_. As soon as the mission ends, he continues being a normal student with his boring ass life. What Derek does when they aren’t working on a case is a mystery to him.

“And besides,” Stiles adds after a moment, “shouldn’t you care about more important things right now? I don’t know, worry about your current girlfriend maybe? God, everything’s better than bothering me!”

“Braeden’s not my girlfriend,” Derek murmurs. He leans forward and places his hands on his leg. “She’s not even in Beacon Hills anymore.”

Stiles’ eyes widen at that a little—he really knows shit about Derek’s life anymore. He shrugs it off. Whatever, right? Why would he care? “But didn’t you guys sleep with each other?”

“Yeah...”

Stiles snorts at that. Typical. “You know, maybe you should start to at least get to know the person a little before you sleep with them.”

There’s a small pause between them. He knows it might be a little insensitive, but he’s right. If he hadn’t been sleeping with Kate at _who knows what ag_ e, the Hale Fire wouldn’t have happened. Same thing with Jennifer. Derek doesn’t seem to learn anything. After all, Stiles knows about Paige and why Derek’s attitude towards love is so wrecked, but sleeping around was the solution to Derek? Couldn’t he at least try to find real love again, someone he’d deeply care about and not just to make things easier for him?

Derek doesn’t say anything, just nods quietly for a moment. “How’s it going between you and Malia?”

Stiles’ mouth drops open at his question. He opens and closes his mouth, looking like a fish trying to breathe. _You can’t be serious_ , Stiles thinks. He sounds even annoyed when he’s just thinking to himself.

_Yeah, sure, just use my own words against me. Tell me that I’m as stupid as you. I can take it._

He knows he only gave a relationship with Malia a shot because it seemed to be the easiest and only way to at least get his sex life going. But who can blame him? He was confused and frustrated, and just had enough of his life as a total loser. Just because it started this way, doesn’t mean he couldn’t improve.

But why would Derek try to judge him? It doesn’t make any sense, but Stiles just wants to believe that he does judge him.

_Yes, just judge, Derek. Don’t hold back and say what you want to say. I don’t care. It’s my decision who I sleep with, even when it is your cousin._

Stiles decides to ignore Derek’s question and turns away from him with a bitch face. He sticks his arms behind his head and leans back with a fake yawn. “You know what, I think you’re right. I should take a nap now. Like, on this chair. So if you could just keep doing whatever you were doing before I came through this door and leave me alone?”

Derek doesn’t say anything as he gets up and steps away. Stiles keeps his eyes closed. They don’t talk to each other until the others arrive.

 

◊

 

Everyone’s taking notes during the meeting except for Stiles. He can remember most of the things at pack meetings anyway. People have been going missing  only to be found dead in the woods for a while now. It kind of reminds him of the Alpha Pack case a few years before the Benefactor case.

“The police found the bodies each time in the woods at a different place at full moon. All in all, there were four bodies found so far. Here, here… here and there,” Derek says from the board. On the board are pictures from each body which were found, connected on the forest map with red tapes. Derek draws a circle around each picture with a red marker. “The way the victims get slashed open stomach first, then neck is a clear indication for the sacrificial ceremony of witches and— What is it, Stiles? Discussion does not open until all the details are exposed.”

Stiles takes his hand down, but still opens his mouth. “If that’s the case, the next position of the next body’s obvious.”

“Yes, indeed,” Derek says, pointing to Stiles with the marker and nods. “The locations where the bodies were found, also show a typical pattern for witches.” He turns back to the board marking the bodies’ locations once again on the map. For any other person, it would seem like random places, but the first look usually lies. Stiles has done this way often enough by now. It’s like you’d need to feel sorry for them.

Stiles snorts.

_Witches. Pathetic._

“Good job,” Malia says next to him with a smile, giving a kiss on his lips. Stiles grabs the back of her head and answers her kiss, making some people on the table shake their head or roll their eyes—including Derek—for making out in the middle of a pack meeting, _again_.

“I do what I have to,” Stiles only says after the kiss and turns back to the board.

There was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Derek starts connecting the lines. “Like you can see, it’s a pentagram. Or to be more precisely, it will be a pentagram soon, but we’re going to stop the witches first,” Derek says and closes the marker.

Of course it doesn’t mean that the actual victim will be caught at this place. It’s just the place, they’re going to drag their victim to kill. They should send three or four groups to guard different locations, which are also suspicious.

Stiles doesn’t even wait for Derek to end the question before he raises his hand to volunteer for the alpha group—the group, which is going to the last spike of the pentagram. As always, everyone looks right to him. But at least, they stopped commenting his quick volunteering or let’s just say _most_ of them.

“Dude,” he hears Scott whisper from the other side of the table, which makes the whispering even more useless as before because they’re all supernaturals except for Stiles. “You’re volunteering for the ninth time. You should slow down!”

“If I didn’t want to volunteer, why did I even come here, after all?” Stiles scoffs out, mockingly.

“That’s enough, guys. We got it,” Derek says and interrupts their conversation. He looks through the group with raised eyebrows. “Now, are there any other volunteers?”

Besides the glances everyone’s sharing, no one says a thing.

“Well, since it’s the most dangerous post, I’ll be joining it then. I can smell that some of your wounds haven’t completely healed, so I’ll watch that they don’t get worse,” Derek says, obviously to Stiles since his wounds are the only wounds, which couldn’t heal crazily fast.

Malia told him that she wanted to improve her friendship with the others, so it’s fine that she prefers another team. He hadn’t been in a group with Derek in a long time, but he’ll manage it. They were working together very often in the past.

Stiles doesn’t really pay attention to the rest of the meeting. The minutes where Derek tells everyone else’s tasks, fade quickly away.

 

◊

 

After the meeting ends, Derek and Stiles take the jeep and drive towards the Beacon Hills forest. The ride is actually long, but the fact none of them is saying anything, makes it seem even longer.

“Wait, hold on,” Derek suddenly says in the middle of the road, pulling Stiles’ arm.

It’s a wonder they don’t crash into a tree because Stiles almost had a heart attack.

“What the fuck, Derek? You almost got us into an—”

“Shush, look! There is barrier tape,” Derek points out. He gets out of the jeep instantly, not shutting the door. Derek waves to Stiles. “Hurry, before we get caught.”

Stiles gets a huge smile on his face. Normally, when he’s on a mission, he’s with Scott, who always sticks to the plan. If Stiles sees something suspicious, Scott mostly ignores it because _plan._

Maybe, that’s the good thing about working with Derek.

“Sure thing,” he says and stumbles out of the car. He shuts the door as quiet as possible before he follows Derek to the barrier. There are two police cars, but no officers seem to be around. Derek would hear them, after all.

They shove the tape aside and slip through the barrier. The police put these bands up to hold people back from… something. The barriers usually don’t bother them. They have a task to fulfil… even though they should be somewhere else right now.

“Do you smell anything witchy?” Stiles asks. He follows Derek with ease while Derek ducks his head and sneaks forward.

“Be quiet, you idiot!”

Stiles snorts, but keeps his mouth shut after that—as good as he can—and keeps bobbing after Derek. It’s so dark that he can barely see, but the good thing is he has a wolf friend whose eyes can glow. It starts to get a little boring after a while, though. They just keep walking the whole time, and since Derek is the only one who has all the fun with following a scent or something, Stiles really starts thinking that, maybe, they should go to their normal post.

“Derek, it’s been a while that we’ve been walking around. I think we should tu—Ey!” Stiles says, but stops as Derek halts and makes Stiles crash into his back. It seems like he wouldn’t get a chance to finish his thoughts today. Derek, now stands uprights again, his glowing eyes turn normal.

Stiles moves past Derek, shooting Derek a confused look over his shoulder. He’s just about to ask Derek why he stopped, as he stumbles over a root and falls to the ground and leaves, letting out a yelp.

He doesn’t even get seconds before he figures out why Derek stopped. As he lies on the ground between dirt and leaves, he looks into the lifeless eyes of a man only inches away from his face. Stiles can barely cover his mouth before he starts screaming. He tries to get up again, but ends up landing on his butt, and scoots back until a tree stops him.

The man is wearing a police uniform.

As much as Stiles just got scared to death, he’s relieved that Dad had this day off. The policeman is fully covered in blood.

_T-this could have been Dad._

“Is everything alright?” Derek shouts out and steps to Stiles in a hurry.

Stiles’ eyes don’t leave the dead policeman on the ground. He just nods, horrified.

“Your arm is bleeding. Are you sure?” Derek asks, placing his hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

He’s still startled for a second, but comes back as Derek put out his arm. Only now, he realizes that he must have landed on something sharp because his right arm has a big flesh wound, and blood isn’t even leaking slowly out of it.

“Shit,” is the only thing Stiles says. Just now, the pain the adrenaline kept down, overwhelms him and makes him groan. With his other hand, he reaches in his right jeans pocket, trying to get the little box with his emergency needle and stitches out.

“Do you need help?”

“No, I’m fine. I’ve got all I need,” Stiles grits out to Derek as he threads the needle. His hands were already shaking before he fell. It’s cold, okay?

“Really?” Derek tries again.

“Nope,” Stiles says, popping the ‘p’, and bites off the thread.

He has done this often enough. He doesn’t need help.

Derek steps back a little as Stiles places the needle into his wound. The wolf turns up his nose, which amazes Stiles a little, to be honest. He never saw Stiles doing something like this, although he uses to do that almost on, or after, every mission.

His hand just won’t stop shaking tough, and it makes Stiles so mad because Derek will probably think that he’s too much of a wimp to do it, which he is not.

“Stiles,” Derek says with a soft voice. “Your hand…”

“What’s with it?” Stiles scoffs back. He really doesn’t want to act annoyed, but he’s kind of busy right now. “Better look out if someone or something is around. The chance that this thing, which made a bloody mess of this guy is still here, is pretty high.”

“What happened to your fingers?”

Stiles looks to his hand. His fingers are all crooked and awry. “I just broke them a few times. That’s just what happens. Now, watch out!”

Derek seems puzzled first, but gets up to do what Stiles told him to do. Stiles managed it to get the stitch through his skin and starts stitching his wound. It ends up a bit messy, but as long as it keeps everything together…

It’s stupid that he’s leaning against the stupid tree he just stumbled over and got the wound from in the first place. He’s shooting a bitch face to the root.

On the other hand, it’s kind of weird to see Derek that worried. After all, Stiles was the one who kind of was worried about Derek all the time back in the days. There were many moments, where he could have just let Derek die. In fact, he wanted to do that at the beginning all along, but every time, Derek was near his death, Stiles couldn’t let it happen—his death. It was hard enough to leave him back in Mexico last year.

As he gets on his feet again, Derek doesn’t even pay him attention at first. He’s just looking into the darkness, nose twitching.

“Derek?” Stiles asks as he steps closer to Derek. “Is… it here?”

Derek hesitates to say something. He only shakes his head a little. His face looks majorly concerned, which makes Stiles even more nervous than he was before. “I’m not sure… It comes from this direction, but I… I just don’t know.”

Stiles stills, not saying a word. Should they go or not? The answer is clearly ‘yes’, but the fear in Derek’s eyes terrifies him.

“Stay here.”

“Wait, what?”

“This could be too dangerous for…”

“For what, Derek?” Stiles hisses, trying his best to say ‘be carefully what you’re about to say’ without actually saying it. “A human? Skinny, defenceless me?”

“Stiles.”

“No, don’t _Stiles_ at me! Just because I’m a human, doesn’t mean I can’t deal with it! It’s my job to deal with stuff like that!” Stiles doesn’t even care that he’s screaming, and that it could be attracting whatever Derek is so scared of. “I’ve got many things to make up for!”

Derek turns to him at that, looking blankly at him. “Stiles, Allison was not your fault, okay!”

Stiles’ face turns blank. And after Derek realized what he just said, his face turns even paler. Stiles’ head falls forward, his eyebrows furrowing.

 _That’s not what I meant_ , Stiles thinks. _Or at least not directly_.

“What did you say…”

“She wasn’t, Stiles,” Derek says quietly. He’s squeezing his fist. “The Nogitsune killed her. It just used your body, knowing that it would destroy all of us.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?”

“What?”

“You don’t get anything, Derek. She was! Aiden was! Erica and Boyd were my fault too!” Stiles steps closer and closer to Derek, poking his finger at Derek’s muscular chest, forcing him to step back. Maybe, it was too hard to mention Erica and Boyd, but it was all true. “And Scott was my fault!”

A silent pause settles between them again. Stiles can hear his heartbeat pounding against his chest case. Somehow, he feels relieved. all it took was yelling everything, which was his fault, at someone.

“I was the one who dragged him into the woods to search for your sister… Everything is my fault.”

“Stiles, that’s not—” But as Derek wants to say another word, both of them turn to the direction, Derek was looking before.

Rustling of leaves comes from the darkness, and with it, a man dressed in black.

“Dear devil…,” the man sighs and shakes his head as he walks closer to them. “I was just leaving my sacrifice for a minute and there're already yelling morons.”

Derek doesn’t waste any time and shifts. Stiles also doesn’t waste any time and grabs his bat. He isn’t stupid, though; his bat is made of special metal, which is magic resistant. Deaton didn’t tell him which metal it is, though. But all that he needs to know, is that it’s more stable than wood. The last time, he tried to beat something round the head with a wood bat, it broke like glass.

The fact that this man apparently committed all these murders, makes Stiles a little excited on the other hand. The way he killed all these people, lead directly to witches, but witches are all female.

Stiles has never fought against a sorcerer before.

“Oh, look at that cute puppy and its owner,” the sorcerer says in a tone, which makes Stiles want to crush in this guy’s head. “Well, if you two want to challenge me for my sacrifice, maybe I should just look for another instead… starting with you.”

There isn’t a second of silence after the sorcerer stopped talking, because Derek growls, calling for the whole pack. After that, Derek starts running towards the man, armed with sharp claws and ready to shred him to pieces.

Stiles doesn’t move in the meantime. He knows, if he goes between Derek and the sorcerer now, he’ll be just standing in the way. But this thought only lasts seconds before Derek suddenly stops and moves his hands to his throat. Stiles, at first doesn’t know what happens, but as Derek’s feet stop touching the ground, his heart skips a beat.

He finds himself unable to move as Derek gets lifted up higher and higher. Derek’s limbs are dangling helplessly in the air as he tells Stiles to run. He never thought that a witch could ever learn telekinesis. But this isn’t a witch, after all. If he runs towards him, the sorcerer’s definitely going to do the same thing with him, but he doesn’t want to follow Derek’s order and run away. If he does that, Derek would be dead.

“I said run, Stiles!” Derek yells three meters above him.

It’s not like he has ever listened to Derek, so Stiles ignores his orders and runs towards the sorcerer with his bat, hoping that, maybe, the sorcerer hasn’t enough power to lift two people at once. And, yes, he doesn’t seem to have enough power to lift Stiles too as he’s charging towards him.

Stiles stops only few meters in front of the sorcerer as he hears a loud crack above him, followed by a loud groan.

“AAHHHH!”

“Derek!” Stiles shouts out and looks up to Derek. He can see Derek’s limbs flailing, and Stiles sees that the sorcerer broke Derek’s right arm. It’s an abominable view. His arm dangles unnaturally down from where his bones broke.

“S-shit,” Derek grits out. “St-Stiles, run!”

“You should listen to your friend, Stiles,” the man in front of says in a calm voice. It makes Stiles sick that he just used his name even when it’s not his actual name. “Because if you step just one single step closer, I will crush every bone of his body and kill him.”

“You…,” Stiles scoffs. His feet are telling him to move; his arm, which the bat is in, tells him to crush this man’s face, and his fingers are telling him to scratch his eyes out. But between all these voices, another voice—the loudest in his head—screams to _not_ move. “Sonofabitch!”

The sorcerer starts laughing, looking up and down between Derek and Stiles. Stiles can even see that he’s getting tears from all the laughing.

Stiles can already see Derek’s arm is healing. This time it heals, but what if every bone of his body breaks? What if it’s too much for Derek’s body to initiate the healing process? After all, you can stop the healing process with high electricity too.

“Don’t be silly, boy. We can avoid another death tonight,” the sorcerer says, shaking his head at Stiles. He points at the dead body of the policeman. “Just let me get him and fulfil the ritual and no one gets hurt. After all, worship is free in this country… even when it’s the devil.”

“Not when you have to k-kill people to do it,” Derek grits out.

The man starts laughing again. “Oh my… This policeman is already dead! Do you want him to die for nothing? Be a smart kid, and lay your bat on the ground.”

Stiles stills.

_Shit._

He lays his bat on the ground as he was told and raises his hands, so the man would see that he doesn’t have anything else.

“Good boy,” the man says as he slowly walks past Stiles.

Even though he walks slowly, it won’t be enough time until the others would arrive here. It’s all so frustrating because he can’t move.

The sorcerer’s arms are still pointing to Derek above Stiles head as he walks. Apparently, he needs to point his arms at something to use telekinesis on it, just like in all the movies—except, this isn’t a movie, or at least, not one with a happy ending. It’s pitifully easy to get a happy ending in a movie, actually, and it’s sometimes so dumb and risky, but still, at the end, they win.

_Something risky…_

On the other hand, Stiles doesn’t want to give up. He just needs to come up with something, but what? If he makes a single step, Derek will die—probably. Still, Stiles doesn’t want to take a risk like _that._ He somehow needs to free Derek first. He knows that this sorcerer needs to point his arm to Derek to make him levitate. Maybe he could…

_Yes, that’s it!_

Stiles needs to be quick when he grabs his bat, but also quiet, because when he has the bat again, he can maybe throw it far enough to hit the sorcerer’s arm. Since his bat is magic resistant, the sorcerer wouldn’t be able to repel it. But about the throw; every odd is against his favour in this one because his skills at lacrosse have already shown him what a bad thrower he is.

He can’t think too long about this now. This guy is almost at the body, and when he decides to teleport with it, they’ll lose his track. Stiles slowly and quietly picks up his bat, even trying not to make noise with his breath. He throws his bat with all his strength and… hits.

“Derek, watch out,” Stiles yells as he rushes ahead to the sorcerer to warn him about the fall. The sorcerer groans meanwhile. His bat must have done serious damage to his arm. He doesn’t stop running towards the sorcerer, hoping he’ll have enough time to reach his bat and the sorcerer.

Just at this moment, Stiles hears howling all around him. Scott and the others would be here any moment.

It worked...

_My stupid plan actually worked._

A huge grin spreads across his face as he keeps running. He can hear Derek landing on the ground again, but there isn’t a cracking sound, which means he landed well. Stiles is only inches away from the sorcerer and stretches  his arm down to get the bat, but then he hears a strange noise, followed by a piercing pain in his arm. The badly sewn stitches broke open.

“Ah!” Stiles groans as he stumbles onto the ground, landing right on his wound.

“Stiles!” Derek yells, trying to reach for him with his hand from afar. But it’s too late; Stiles is lying right at the sorcerer’s feet.

“You stupid, little bug,” the man scoffs, kicking Stiles in his side. “I actually would have just ended my ritual with this already dead guardian, but I guess you work fine as a guardian too!”

Stiles coughs several times from the kicks he receives. He feels how he gets pulled up again, but after more thinking, he realizes that he’s been lifted up by telekinesis, and it’s like someone is choking him to death. He can feel his blood going to his head. He desperately tries to free his throat, and moves his hands to his throat, but it doesn’t help because there’s nothing he could push away from his throat.

“I’m so sick of you, dumbass! I bet, no one will even miss your stupid punk ass!” This sorcerer completely loses his mind and lifts him into the air to almost ten meters above the ground.

“Stiles!” Stiles hears again. This time, it’s Scott who’s shouting it. They’re here, but he can’t see them from his perspective. He only can see Derek.

As soon as the sound of his name faded away, another, even more piercing pain shoots through his arm as it breaks several times at once. He groans again, feeling tears coming down his cheeks. The next thing Stiles hears is Derek’s growl as he charges towards the sorcerer.

Stiles expects his painful death, but what he sees is Derek in his full wolf from, tearing the man, who broke his arm, into pieces.

It’s like he sees everything slow motion as he falls.

It’s an odd feeling. He can see his tears falling down above his face, and he can see the others on the ground, all trying to reach him before he hits the ground.

The moment doesn’t last long, after all.

Everything turns black before he even hits the ground.

 

◊

 

_Derek?! Derek, come on!_

 

◊

 

_What…_

His head hurts like he was just hit by a car as he opens his eyes. The bright light above him nearly blinds him, and his right arm feels like someone sat on it for days.

_Where am I?_

There’s a man sitting on the chair next to the bed he’s lying on. He has brown hair and a beard which seems like it’s very soft if you touch it. This man looks to the ground, seems to be very worried about him. Carefully, he tries to sit upright on something, which seems like a hospital bed. He wants to say something, but all that comes out is a groan because of all the pain.

The man’s eyes widen at the noise. He jumps off the chair and walks over to his side, taking his hands into his. “Stiles, you’re awake.”

His eyebrows furrow at this man’s words. He has never seen him in his whole life.

“…Who are you?”

“Stiles, this isn’t funny,” the man says, squeezing his hand even harder.

It makes him feel needed, but at the same time, it leaves him terrified on the bed. He doesn’t know who this man is talking about, and it brings a question into his head, a question, a person usually shouldn’t have.

“W-who am I?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment/kuddo to tell me if you liked it and want to see more of it. Means a lot :)


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